Passionate Professors || Sebastian Sallow

Part 1 | Ch. 3 - Headmaster Weasley

The Headmaster emerged from behind me, closing the door to the outside balcony. Red floppy hair atop their head, more kept than I remembered but still a mess. Teeny lines tugged at their eyes when they smiled, showing the time that has passed.

"Garreth?" I said in disbelief, fully expecting to see his aunt, my old Transfiguration Professor, Matilda Weasley.

Garreth Weasley smiled slyly, running a hand through his hair. "Guess you hadn't heard the news."

"Guess I hadn't?" I repeated, taking in more of his features. His pale skin was still smattered with freckles, his jawline free of facial hair. But his presence was that of an old friend, radiating that awkward feeling of what happens when time and distance take over. We'd known so much about each other from the years of friendship but we now knew nothing at all, likely had nothing in common except for our shared memories.

"Professor Black was called off with Professor Sharp to work at the Ministry on a special project." He began, "I had just accepted the new Potions Master position to replace Professor Sharp when my Aunt decided that she didn't want to take on the responsibility of being Headmaster, now that she's getting older. She had a bit of a health scare."

I stood in awe. My clumsy Potions partner was the Hogwarts Headmaster and may just be the youngest one in history. I remember stealing a Fwooper feather for him on my first day in class, causing his cauldron contents to explode when he added it in, and now he's responsible for an entire student body. I let out a breathy laugh through my nostrils, unable to hold it in.

"It's good to see you Garreth." I finally moved from my frozen spot and gave him a hug. He held on a little too long. "I hope your aunt is doing better now."

"She is, thank you. So, shall we start the interview?" He motioned to his desk, plopping himself in the big brown leather chair, which swallowed him up. Garreth wasn't short but he definitely wasn't tall either, his growth spurt stopped in seventh year and he made sure to constantly make self-deprecating jokes about it. I chalked it up to insecurity as the other boys shot up past him in height and weight.

"Where is Professor Hecat in all this?" I inquired, crossing my legs and smoothing my skirt.

"She passed away last week." Garreth said solemnly, his gaze finding a used quill on the desk. As much as he goofed off in her class, he used to talk about how much he loved Defense Against the Dark Arts. It was my favorite class too, besides Professor Fig's of course. "It was peaceful, with her husband by her side." He added, softening the message as if he knew I'd feel better knowing she wasn't alone.

I picked at my nail beds, unable to make eye contact with the new Headmaster. Professor Hecat was instrumental in teaching me defensive and offensive spells. She consistently gave me extra assignments to help me catch up to the other students, which she made seem easy by her teaching abilities. I couldn't have defeated Ranrok, Rookwood, and Harlow in my fifth year if it wasn't for her. And I continued to use those spells everyday as an Auror. Poachers never stood a chance.

"I know you respected her, Gianna." He leaned forward, trying to catch my eye. "That's why I sent for you."

I looked up at him, noticing how handsome he had become. The obnoxiously red hair had faded into a deep orange, his freckles blending more into the pale of his skin, as if someone took a paint brush and layered over them. A warmth spread across his cheeks and he was more confident than I remembered, more sure of himself. Those gangly teenage years had washed away, replaced with a more matured version of the Gryffindor goofball.

"So, do you want the job or not?" He smirked a smile that told me he was never going to interview me. "I did send other letters but wanted to offer the position to you first. You're the most qualified."